Ms Charlotte Lacks
by kimomo15243
Summary: A salty, cynical thief meets her match when facing a heist too good to resist


It was not an altogether unpleasant concoction. Certainly, she had suffered worse in the past at the hands of her host. The liquid had a light, fragrant flavor and the chunks could be safely identified as brie, garlic, or thyme. Nevertheless, something about the way the soup slid down her throat seemed a bit... off. Nevertheless, she reassured herself that, as a dutiful guest, she must finish what was placed before her without complaint.

Ms. Lacks scanned the room, searching for something to pull her attention away from the lukewarm ooze working its way down her throat. Her heavy-lidded eyes drew themselves slowly across the walls, observing the good taste in art and the finely polished paneling, only to be briefly interrupted by a dart in the direction of a certain guest now and again. The thin haze of smoke permeating the air made it difficult to scrutinize the finer details of what was certainly a Grivacci portrait hanging to the left of the archway into the parlour, though it also permitted her furtive glances some relative degree of safety.

He sat three chairs left and across from her. Not an unpleasant-looking gentleman by any means, his hair was dark, thick, and perfectly slicked back to suit the contemporary style that befitted someone invited to an occasion of this prestige. He wore a smart three-piece suit in gray, the snugly fitted jacket already slung over the back of his chair. A rich green tie brought some life into the affair and drew the uncautious observer's eyes down to a tight vest, whose buttons strained slightly to hold in the lithe muscularity of his figure. Clearly at comfort among such company, his posture was proper, if a little relaxed; his conversation rose in a warm baritone, and eagerly pursued even the most mundane of topics with practiced enthusiasm. However, it was obvious that most of the female guests around him were too busy staring at his finely squared jaw's movements to pay his conversation any mind. Every once in a while, most likely when he remembered to play his part, his dark green eyes glinted with a flash of understanding or appreciation, followed by an urbane smile complete with perfect, forced crow's feet.

Ms. Lacks, however, pointedly ignored all of this. She knew the dance enacted among polite company all too well, and was mentally preoccupied with other things this evening. Of prime interest, and the only reason she continued to observe this otherwise uninteresting specimen, was the pocketwatch tucked into his vest's breast pocket. Golden and richly adorned with emeralds, the timepiece hummed with self-assured industriousness. It was doubtlessly valuable, and possibly a unique heirloom, although it seemed a little pristine to be of any great age or sentimental value. Ms. Lacks, after a slight pause and swallow, resumed her meal, picking up conversation with the plump, red-faced dame to her right for good measure.

"So, Madame Limerick, how goes your husband's surveying, if I may be so bold?"

The cherry pie of a woman, incidentally hostess of this evening's event, spluttered for a moment, nearly losing the dinner roll she had been so noisily chewing on. Her husband, Mr. Aengus Limerick, was a stock surveyor of moderate renown in the city's business circles.

"My, my, Charlotte, that is quite bold. I, being the dutiful wife that I am, wouldn't know anything about my husbands finances."

Frustrated, Charlotte Lacks took her step in the charade: "But surely you have some inkling, dear Grizelda..."

Wiping the butter from the corners of her mouth, Grizelda Limerick promptly obliged:

"But, if I did have the slightest inkling as to his business, which I most certainly do not, I would be sure to let any and all close friends know that now would be a good time to back out of coffee and into silver stocks."

Discarding the information as naturally as breathing, Ms. Lacks pressed the conversation in the expected directions, humoring the jocund mass adjacent to her in every way socially acceptable for the next ten minutes. Mrs. Limerick, in turn, accomplished the spectacular feat of shoveling the table's contents into her mouth whilst leaving enough room to entertain the facile conversation simultaneously.

Finally, and to no small sense of relief on Ms. Lacks' part, the sound prompting the evening's toast rang clear; another moment spent dithering away with the jolly Madame Limerick, and she might have very well forfeited her sanity. She turned to see a tall, late middle-aged gentleman arising at the table's head, face red from good humor and heavy consumption of alcohol.

"Dear friends and acquaintances, it is with great pleasure that I welcome you into our home for this bi-weekly dinner party. As you know, my dear Grizelda," he gestured to the quivering lump of flesh, by no small feat managing to retain his supper's contents all the same, "has long waited for another opportunity to entertain such fine company. I daresay she has outdone herself, and wish to compliment her for the state of the household, the marvelous brie soup,..."

Aengus Limerick went on with his platitudes and blatant lies for some time. In all, he played the role of blustering peacock quite well, managing to sway on his feet for over ten minutes before plopping down into his seat and failing to stifle a particularly wet burp. Fine company indeed, Ms. Lacks mused, calmly clearing her place and folding her napkin as the other eleven rushed into the parlour for social hour. She reminded herself of her purpose, knowing that, if not for what she stood to gain from these fools, she would never have pandered her precious time away on an evening such as this.

Slipping on her gloves, reapplying her lip-stick, and rising from her chair, Ms. Lacks languidly began making her way to the parlour. She eyed the crowd, scanning for her target. Finally, her eyes came to rest on the pocketwatch, and she strode to its owner with a single-minded determination. Charlotte considered the bits of his character she had picked up on throughout the evening, and analyzed what would be her preferred method of retrieval; of course the conclusion was a foregone one, she would obviously choose seduction. As with most men, this one's vanity and wealth obviously weeded him out as power-hungry, and, as with all men hungry for power, money was only one type of power: the thing they wanted perpetually, possibly even more than money, was women. Yet, as keenly as she was aware of what he wanted, Ms. Lacks also knew how to give it to him, and get a little something for herself in return.

She strode up to the hunk, seeing his eyes take her in. She could practically feel his awareness taking in her tightly fitting red dress, apparel that all too gratuitously hugged her curvaceous form. She knew from the hungry glint in his eyes that he wanted nothing more than to run his hands up the long, trim legs and place a firm grip on the feminine curve of her waist. She could practically feel the heat of his bated breath as he considered her well-formed, perky breasts and the unspeakable things he would like to do to them. She felt the intensity of his gaze slide up her torso and along her gentle but finely defined jawline, knowing in his mind his tongue was doing the same. Finally, as his eyes met hers, she met his intensity with her own, and spoke:

"My, my, and who might this virile young subject be?"

Pushing aside a brief flush of embarrassment for his regular cool repose, the handsome young man replied, "Johnathan Celborn, at your service, my fair lady."

Realizing the party's time would end with Aengus Limerick's promptly fading lucidity, Charlotte wasted no time, instead pulling up a chair and looking deeply into her young target's passionate eyes.

"Well I must say, Mr. Celborn, you have caught my eye, and that is something so very few men can do these days."

Willing him to stare at her with all her might, her hands were fast at work slipping an unknown red powder into his wine glass.

"What do you say the two of use make our last toasts and find a more... private... location to discuss how you've caught my eye, young Johnathan."

With this, she lightly ran a gloved finger along his sculpted jawline, down his neck, and expertly allowed it to come to rest on the skin above his tie, before giving an all too suggestive tug and releasing.

Realizing his initial wild fantasies might soon become an all too tangible reality, John's heart leaped into his throat at around the same speed he leaped from his chair (that is to say, far too quickly). Offering a hasty toast and the sensual Ms. Lacks a walk home were an afterthought, as his mind was already racing to other, more physically involved activities.

Outside the musky townhouse Charlotte found herself, for the first time in many years, swept off her feet and into the warm, strong arms of her gentleman caller. Not wanting to lose her target, she played along, told her would-be captor the location of the nearest comfortable bed, and was promptly spirited away, faking contentedness in the muscular prison of John's now tangibly throbbing arms.

After some brief awkwardness at the hotel's admitting counter, we found ourselves in a dimly lit, but comfortable, suite. The hunger in his eyes was palpable, his face and hands both flushed with lust, and every part of his body seemed to throb underneath the too-tight clothing. Pacing herself, Charlotte began by pulling back lightly on his thick dark hair and whispering sweet promises into his ear, all the while pushing his considerable frame through the entryway and toward the bed:

"Glad you agreed, Mr. Celborn, to have this special little chat with me."

The drill with men of power was always the same, start by faking dominance, build up their confidence by allowing small, intermittent victories, give them a brief reward for assertiveness, and then submit wholly to their desires. Of course, this particular man of power would be unconscious by the time she finished phase two, so it was of little importance.

With generous, moist lips that promised sweet taste and sweeter attentiveness, Charlotte began tracing her way from his upper ear (nibbling there for good measure) to his forehead, pressing his head down to her neck as she did so. He seized the initiative to make good on his daydream and began to run his tongue along her neck and jawline, fighting for every inch he crawled upward until, at last, it was his turn to whisper into her ear.

"How about we let our bodies do the talking for a bit?"

The erotic warmth of his breath on her ear and the back of her neck made Charlotte flinch and loosen a little, despite her better judgment. His sensuality was more than just skin-deep, it seemed. For a moment, his request seemed too good to be true; of course she would oblige it without restraint. Wait, no. Who was the professional here? Not wanting to lose control too quickly, she tugged on the thick locks and brought his lips level with her own, invading his mouth with her tongue before he could utter so much as a squeak of surprise. But, as if her natural enemy, he trumped her work even here, forcing her practiced tongue back with his own, the sheer power of his desire overwhelming and overcoming her.

Knowing that it couldn't be long before he was asleep anyways, Ms. Lacks decided to make the most of the moment. Still submitting to the passionate probing of her mouth, and mounting a paltry, mostly symbolic counterattack of her own, her delicate hands removed their gloves and began the furious work of removing his vest and shirt. Distracted, and with her field of vision restricted, she fumbled with a button midway down the shirt for a couple of seconds before, out of lustful impatience, her partner's powerful hands came and ripped the rest of the shirt off by force, ruining a perfectly salvageable shirt in his desire-fueled frenzy. Scolding herself, Ms. Lacks promised not to let his gesture go to waste. Eyeing the remnants of the tattered shirt, she noticed that there were already tears around the biceps from the strain of containing his excitement; the shirt really was too small for him.

Fearful of the passion rising in her gut, Charlotte first gave a sideways glance and then a full-on gape at the figure in front of her. How, she wondered, had that flimsy shirt ever managed to contain him in the first place? His arms swelled with excitement, his thick chest heaved from it as well, nipples perked and at the ready. His stomach was covered by thick layers of abdominals, and his lower stomach plummeted away with a pronounced oblique moving towards...

She could tolerate it no longer, she had to see the rest of her victim, had to thank him in some way before he departed her company for the evening. It was her turn to do the ripping, as she broke the zipper in a rushed attempt to pull of the painfully tight slacks. How had he fit into these, if they were so impossibly hard to pull down? Surely he could not have eaten that much of the horrible brie soup. With a final heave on her part, the pants and underwear gave way, revealing a throbbing member that explained everything. Not only was his endowment pulsing tangibly with every beat of his heart, it was as huge as he was. Easily nine inches long, the dick waved at her, its owner chuckling at her response to seeing it.

Not wanting to seem the amateur here, Charlotte quickly overcame her shock and began to wet the tip of the thick, vascular shaft with her all-too moist lips. She ran her lips along each side of the shaft, licking his testicles as she came to the inner part of his thigh. She looked up with puppy dog eyes as she inserted the tip of his head into her mouth. The warm shaft wiggled in her mouth, as good a "go" signal as any: she began taking as much of the behemoth into her throat as she could, stretching further and further with each bob of her head. Seeking maximum effect, she curled her tongue into a massaging shape and moved her head in sync with the pounding heartbeat reverberating throughout the cock. Eventually she found her nose close enough to smell rub against his oblique area, and began running her nails along the generous muscles of this area, working down to the pulsing inner thighs. After what seemed like an eternity (her partner had quite the tolerance for both pleasure and sedatives it would seem), she felt a churning in his gonads, and prepared herself for his special delivery. Reassuring herself it was for strictly professional reasons that she "didn't want to leave any evidence behind" she felt the bulge travel along the shaft until it eagerly exploded into her accepting esophagus. Lapping up every last drop of the surprisingly tasty spunk, Charlotte released herself from the nigh-equine member and cleaned it of her saliva with ginger tongue strokes.

John, however, was apparently neither satisfied nor sedated yet, and promptly picked his attentive vixen off the floor, turned her around, gripped her sides firmly, and placed his still-hard shaft at the entry to her cavity. He entered slowly at first, not wanting to hurt his beautiful partner, but rapidly lost control to the silky and tight warmth of her passage, ramming his length in fully after only five inches of cautious penetration. He heard a pained yelp, but saw only an eager face staring back at him. Arms bulging, chest tensing, and abdominals alternating between the two, he began to make love to her in a way that both ground his member side to side, probing, and moved it forwards and backwards in a wavelike motion. In the middle of all of this, Charlotte somehow managed to flip herself to face him despite her yelps and coos of delight pressing him onward to venture further and further into her, at a faster and faster rate.

Gazing up at what was surely now the man she loved, Charlotte was glad she managed to face him for the grand finale. From her angle, he seemed an impassable wall of muscle, flexing and relaxing with each thrust in a way that made her want to surrender to his embrace forever. Unable to restrain her hands any longer, they ventured first over his abdominals, feeling them smooth out and bunch up into powerful ridged canyons with each pulse of his member. Venturing out, she caressed the intricate muscles of his arms, lining his forearms with her fingernails. She trailed up to his pectorals, flexed to the point that they obscured his neck and parts of his face, her hands came to rest mounds of muscle just as she began to feel it. Her own climax began to rise out of her, and she could hardly help but scream with ecstasy. She suppressed what little she could by digging her nails into the bulging pecs, the pain driving her partner's own orgasm forward with hers. She could feel the churning and , all at once, desired to finish at the same time. As the cock began to swell at its base, she reached her peak, but resolved to stay there until he caught up. The swelling traveling along the shaft created pleasure as she had never known it, and she actually did scream trying to hold back for what seemed an agonizingly long journey to release. Finally, he exploded, and with his release, she let go as well. Her innards wept with delight as her hands let go of her partner. Clearly as contented as she was, he slumped, lay down and rolled his little harlot atop his chest while he finished exploding into her.

For the next minute, she lay within his strong embrace, feeling his strength even through the relaxed hold, molding the curves of her limber body to match the firmness of his own. Looking up, she placed a gentle kiss on his beautiful lips, only to realize that his eyes were closed. Apparently, the sedative had finally taken its toll, as her ever-voracious lover had finally passed out. She eyed the glint of gold in his vest, her prize so readily in sight; she had won, so why did she feel this... hesitation? Was it the passion with which they loved, was it the little characteristics about him she denied liking earlier that she now found unbearably attractive, or was it simply the love she still felt emanating from that last embrace that held her back? Whatever the case, she was frozen with inaction, and soon found herself drifting off to a blissful sleep of her own, sedated by the warm embrace of her newfound love.


End file.
